


Bad Timing

by maria_j_harper



Category: Homestuck, Star Trek
Genre: Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mild Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-04
Updated: 2014-08-04
Packaged: 2018-02-11 18:41:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2078955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maria_j_harper/pseuds/maria_j_harper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remember when Vulcan!Dirk went into Pon Farr and the only person around was a human?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad Timing

Your name is Dirk Strider, and your timing is absolutely atrocious.  
Hiding your emotions, you’ve found, is a lot easier when you have an ironic facade. Your Vulcan kin, however, found your use of rude language “disagreeable.” It didn’t help that you were half human. When a spaceship from earth landed, and the captain happened to mention he needed a new mechanic, they all but forced you to “volunteer.”  
Now you have been traveling with the Starship Serendipity for two years, three months, and eight days, flying ever farther from your home planet. This is a serious problem, because you need to get home right fucking now. You hold out your hand and it trembles uncontrollably. Shit.  
Most of the crew is on shore leave, cavorting about the planet below. The only people on the ship are a skeleton crew, you, and the captain. Captain Jake English, adventurer, ladie’s man, and your best friend. You had hated him for a long time. It was him who took you away from home. Yet as you got to know each other, you had grown to appreciate his enthusiasm, his strict morality, and his indomitable spirit.  
Your door slides open and Jake knocks on the doorframe. “Can I come in?”  
You shrug nonchalantly. “Sure.” It’s just Jake after all, you should be able to keep your hormones under control, right?  
“I know that you don’t always enjoy socialization, but you should really be on shore leave with everyone else, Dirk old boy.”  
You shake your head. “Nah, fuck that shit, I’d rather be doing my job and shit. Besides, I’m not exactly safe to be around at the moment.”  
“What’s that supposed to mean my good fellow? You seem perfectly amicable to me.”  
You hesitate. You're not supposed to tell anyone who isn't a Vulcan about _Fon Parr,_ but then what had the Vulcans with all their stupid secrets and rules ever done for you? “Yeah, well, you caught me at a good moment. You ever heard of a thing called Fon Parr? We're not supposed to tell outworlders about the ancient customs, but you know what? Screw it.”  
“I’m afraid I haven’t, what is it?”  
“Well, Vulcans aren’t exactly known for their romantic prowess, so when the time comes for the birds and the bees to do their thing, we basically go into heat. Violent outbursts, mood swings, and that’s not even the worst part.” Your voice cracks. Shit. You can feel a prickling sensation in your nose and your eyes that heralds tears. You’re seriously about to have an emotional breakdown in front of him.  
“Hey, it’s alright mate, we’ll get through this together.” He puts his arm around your shoulders and sits you down on the edge of your bed. “What’s the worst part? You can tell me.”  
“We have to go home. We are driven, by this fucking undeterrable instinct to go home and find our betrothed mate, and well, I hope I can fucking assume you know what we’re meant to do then. We are compelled to find a mate by our body and our mind, and if we don’t, we... we fucking die.” Yes, you’re crying now. Hot tears are spilling down your cheeks, just a few at first, but soon they are falling into your shirt, into your mouth, and dripping off the tip of your nose. You are not a pretty crier.  
“How long do you have?”  
“About a week. I can't be sure precisely, but I've been feeling the effects for about three days, which means that I have around eight days left.” You let out a small sob, and once you start sobbing you can’t stop. You curl into yourself, crying loudly. You hate this. You hate that you’re losing control like this.  
“Jiminy fucking Christmas!” Jake exclaims. You almost feel like laughing. You always found his weird old-timey swearing amusing. “That’s not fair! What if you’re too far from home? We can’t get to Vulcan in eight days! Not even at full capacity!”  
“Even if we could, my betrothed wants absolutely nothing to do with me.”  
“How do you know that? She might really like you!”  
“She was pretty much head of the “get Dirk off Vulcan for good” committee.”  
“Oh. Well don’t despair Dirk old boy, I’m not about to let you die just because of some silly biology!” He pats you on the back.  
You sniff and wipe your eyes. "Really? What do you propose to do about it?" you ask with a wry chuckle.  
"I don't know, but we'll think of something! Perhaps we could find a Vulcan lady on this planet who would be willing to help you with your dilemma!"  
"Jake, that's not how fucking it works. No Vulcan would, no Vulcan could do that. It's a matter of propriety, of logic."  
"But... it doesn't have to be a Vulcan lady does it? There is president after all." He gestures toward you.  
"Yeah, my dad did mate with a human, that's true. What exactly are you proposing here?" You are suddenly extremely aware that you are sitting very close to one another. Your knees are touching, and his arm is still around your shoulders. You are also aware that you are currently seated on a bed.  
"Well, you are a reasonably attractive man Dirk. I've seen more than a few of our female staff looking at you with mooning eyes. Take Ensign Lalonde for example! She's always flirting around with you. I'm sure that she would be more than happy to help."  
"Lalonde? Yeah, I guess."  
"Well what are you waiting for old sport? Go talk to her. Go on, go! I promise to be out of your chambers by the time to talk her back here."  
You take that as a direct order, and obey.

You find Ensign Lalonde on the bridge, helping Mituna, the ship's navigator. When she sees you, she sashays over. "Heya Dirk." She giggles.  
"Ensign Lalonde, looking fine as ever today," you respond. "I was wondering if I could have a moment alone with you. I remember you said something rather eloquent on the subject not too long ago. How did you put it? Wonk."  
"Wonk indeed Mitter Strider. Mister. And please, call me Roxy." Together you step into the hallway.  
"Well, Roxy, I've been thinking about that proposition you made not too long ago, and thought that I might take you up on it."  
"Which one? I flit with a lotta people Dirk. Flirt. You're gonna hafta remind me what I said."  
"I believe it was 'you can haff me any time, just say the wrod. Word.' I realize that my sudden decision, without romance or reason, may seem illogical, but I promise, I've thought it through."  
"Oh... you're doin that thing that Vulcans do where the need to have sex, yeah? No worries Dirk, I gotcha." She pats your arm.  
"How did you know about that?" you ask, more impressed than alarmed. "It's supposed to be a closely guarded secret!"  
"Dirk, you know my reputation! Did you hornestly think I'd never been wit a Vulcan before? Honestly."  
"I guess the thought just hadn't crossed my mind."  
"Come on! In here!" You are abruptly pulled into a supplies closet. You are face to face with Roxy Lalonde, in a rather intimate space. You are deep in the throes of Fon Parr, and you can feel the deep needing burning in your blood. You need contact, you need affection, you need a body against yours. You need it so badly it hurts.  
"Shh," she says, "it's okay." She kisses you. You don't know what to do with your hands, but she does. She takes them and places one firmly on her breast, and the other on her ass. She kisses you again.  
Suddenly, you break away. You punch the wall. "Damn it, damn it, damn it!" You punch the wall at each curse.  
"Dirk?"  
Shit, she sounds so scared. She's scared of you, you realize. "Sorry," you say. "I thought- I thought that in the throes of Fon Parr, I might be able to forget my... inclinations. But I guess not. Fuck!" You punch the wall again. No wonder they wanted you off Vulcan. You’re not just a half breed, you’re a defective half breed who can’t even kiss a woman.  
Roxy takes a moment to work it out, but then realization dawns. "Welp. I feel stutid. Stupid. All this time I was tryin to flirt with ya, I shoulda known I just wasn't your type." She pats your arm. "But you know what Dirky boy? You'd better go find somebody who is your type fast. I'd be a sham for you to die. Shame."  
"Yeah, right, like it's all just that simple."  
"Y'might be superprized. Surprised. Wait, no, that was right. Wonk."

"Hello Dirk."  
Shit. "Go away Jake."  
"I told you to go make it happen with Ensign Lalonde, so imagine my bloody fucking surprise when not ten minutes later I run into her in the hallway. And when I ask what happened to you, she says she isn't sure, but she thinks you might be looking for me. I spent the better part of half an hour looking for you, only to find you here!"  
"Jake, it's called a solitary confinement cell for a reason. I don't feel particularly fucking solitary right now!" What is he doing in here? He shouldn't be in here. You can feel the madness brewing in the pit of your stomach, hot as fire.  
"Dirk, by Jove, are you trying to die now? Is that what you want? Because let me tell you, I won't stand for it!" He's moving closer.  
"Stay the fuck away from me Jake, I don't want you getting hurt."  
"I will not stay away! You're acting shit-house suicidal! I thought we had a plan! What's wrong, Roxy isn't Vulcan enough to make love to, not even to save your own thrice cursed life?" His face is mere inches away from yours. You act without thinking. You grab him by the arms and slam his back against the nearest wall, and then you kiss him. Your teeth clash against his in your urgency, but you don't care. You need this. You need him. You need him like you need air, like you need home, like-  
Holy Jesus fuck Dirk, what the fuck do you think you're doing?  
You let go of Jake's arms. He drops to the floor, and you realize that your Vulcan strength had lifted him off the ground. You retreat backward across the room, which is entirely too small. Your face burns with shame. "Dude, I am so fucking sorry. I didn't- I would never- I shouldn't have lost control like that, and I am really so, so sorry."  
You keep your eyes on the ground. You don't want to see the disgust on his face. That must be what he's feeling right now, right? Yeah. You wait for him to leave.  
He doesn't.  
"Dirk, tell me something, is what you just did considered... wrong on Vulcan?"  
"Yeah, you could say that." You can't help but give a wry chuckle. Understatement of the goddamn millennium there.  
"Really? Because this is hardly the twenty-first century anymore. Humans outgrew those silly prejudices decades ago." He's walking towards you. "In fact, not too long ago the starfleet instituted their first bi-sexual captain, one Captain Jake Harley English." He's so close you could touch him. He touches you first, putting his hand on your shoulder. "If this was what you wanted, all you would have had to do was say something."  
And then he's kissing you. His lips are soft but his hands are firm as they pull you in closer, and it all just feels so right. You murmur his name, and press against him needily. You can still feel the Pon Farr madness clawing hungrily at your insides, adding a certain fervor to your actions. You aren't totally in control, but you're no longer sure that's a bad thing. If it was the madness that brought you to this happiness, then you'll gladly surrender to it.  
"Let's take this to my cabin." The world around you swirls, and it takes you a moment to remember that yes, you're still in that cell you locked yourself in to keep from hurting anyone. It takes you another moment to realize that the cell has no bed, and a giant fucking window in the front.  
"Yeah, let's.”


End file.
